Boy Scout
by Simon920
Summary: Roy has something new to torment Robin :Dick Grayson: about.


Feedback: Hell, yes.

Please Note: I'm the wrong gender to have ever been a Boy Scout, though I was a Girl Scout for a while many years ago. I didn't last long, I'm afraid. In fact I have nothing against scouting—well, I don't agree with all their policies, but that's just a personal opinion and of no importance.

No offense is meant, in any way, to the Boy Scouts—or anyone else, for that matter.

**Boy Scout**

"The truth Robbie…were you _really_ ever a Boy Scout? For real."

Friday night at the Tower. Friday the Thirteenth was on the DVD, fresh, handmade from the big pot in the kitchen, from the stove not from the microwave real popcorn, was in the big bowls with actual melted butter and real salt on it. Soda and a few contraband beers were available for those who wanted them. Dick, Wally, Garth and Roy were settled in for an all-nighter and Donna was off with Terry.

Dick, in civvies, gave Roy the half a glance the question deserved. "No."

"Seriously."

"Seriously, no."

Cough. "Bullshit." Cough.

"Shut up, Harper."

"…What's a 'Boy Scout'?" Garth was over on the water bed/couch, semi-floating and looking pretty comfortable. "Is that anything like 'Boy Wonder'?"

"Exactly the same; a dweeb."

"Shut up Harper." Dick looked over at Garth. "Someone who wants to help with community service and get involved in things like camping, making friends and having a solid positive line on their college applications. It's a group you can join"

"Like the Titans?"

"Scouts are a bit less selective."

Wally cornered an entire bowl of popcorn for himself. "I'm a Boy Scout—almost have my Eagle Badge."

"Of course you do." Roy rolled his eyes.

"Lay off—it's fun. You get to go camping, clean up crummy parts of town and you learn a lot about all kinds of stuff. I'm planning on going to the Jubilee this summer."

"Tell me something I don't know, West." Roy took the bowl back, protecting it with his body. "Homophobic, tight-assed, neo-conservative Hitler Youth." He looked at Garth, "That's Boy Scouts."

"Shut up, Roy." Dick popped a can of coke. "Why did you ask?"

Roy held up a current copy of Titan's Tattler, the headline read; 'Robin, the world's best ever Boy Scout'. "You should sue."

"Screw it."

"Or maybe the Scouts should sue—I mean if they really got to know you."

"Shut up, Harper."

Roy was on a roll—nothing better than cheesing off the Boy Wonder on Friday with nothing else going on. Okay, it was a little like shooting fish in the proverbial bucket, but picking on Garth was just too easy unless he was really in the mood—this was much better, entertainment-wise. "I was sure I saw one of those neckerchief scarf things in your room the last time I was looking for clean underwear."

"Shut up, Har…" Dick paused. "You steal my clean underwear?"

" 'You think I'm going to take your dirty underwear?" This was getting good—Dick was getting majorly annoyed and that was always had potential for being funny. "I mean it and I'm sure that Alfred was talking about Bruce wanting you to join up. You remember that, don't you? He thought it would let you socialize with some of the local lads, help you make some friends who don't wear spandex to work." Roy tossed a couple of kernels of popcorn in his mouth. "Keep you away from that disreputable blue collar milieu you were born into, Grayson."

Dick declined to answer. And who'd thought Roy knew the meaning of 'milieu'?

"So, _do_ you know how to pitch a tent, make a campfire, Grayson?"

This was also ignored.

"How about signal flags? Helping little old ladies across the street? Bandaging a puppy's paw?"

Garth had run a search for 'boy scouts' on his laptop but was still a little confused. "Is this like a military organization?" The pictures on his screen showed row upon row of scouts with their pup tents, uniforms pressed and probably dating back to the twenties, from the look of the photos.

"Sorta."

"But…so many people on the surface join?" Garth really wasn't getting this even a little bit.

"Young kids do, but they mostly drop out as they get older. Unless they don't and then they usually keep it secret."

"Why would they do that?"

"Embarrassment." Roy slid over to Dick's side of the couch, arm around his shoulder, pulling him a little too close. "Right, old Robin-bobbin?"

"I wouldn't know." This was gritted out through clenched teeth, accompanied by a full-blown Batglare.

"Y'know, you and Wally could start the Titan's branch, I mean pack. Troop—that's it. You two could start the official Titan's Troop. Whaddayasay, huh?"

Dick stood up, every muscle in his body tense, his face a frozen mask. "It's late, Bruce will be expecting me." Without another word he was out the door, the only sound the roar of his motorcycle as he lay rubber going down the driveway.

The silence in the Tower was very loud.

"…I think you may have gone too far, Roy. He seemed really angry this time."

"Garth, Garth, Garth…" Roy was loose as a goose. "He'll get over it, you'll see. This time next week he'll have forgotten all about it." He grabbed his jacket. "Outta here. Later."

Garth shook his head; it hadn't made any more sense than most of the other things Roy tormented Dick about. Next week, even if Dick really did forget, there would be something else to take its place. He knew that could be counted on. He made his way down to the pool for the night. Maybe he could suggest that they start a branch of this Boy Scouts organization down in Atlantis. It sounded, despite what Roy had said, like it might have some potential…

A minute later in his room back in Blue Valley Wally was on his cell phone. "Hello? Mr. Rickert? This is Wally West calling. I'm sorry to have to just drop this on you without warning or anything, and I know I kind of promised that he'd be there, but I don't think Robin is going to be able to make it as the special guest at his year's Jamboree after all…Well, something just kinda came up, uh, fell through…He kinda changed his mind. I mean I was going to ask him and I'm sure he'd have done it but, um, y'see…He would have but then he would have changed his mind so it's good he never had to cancel and disappoint all the guys, right?…Uh, Mr. Rickert?…Hello? Mr. Rickert?…"

6/14/07


End file.
